


A Matter of Penguins

by Jersey



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bearvengers, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Bear - Freeform, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Humiliation, Non-Sexual Age Play, PTSD, Penguins, Wetting, african penguins, alexander pierce should have died slower, aquarium, the avengers are giant cinnamon rolls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-01-04 12:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12168531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jersey/pseuds/Jersey
Summary: After two plucky little African penguins visit the top of the Freedom Tower in NYC, two other penguins invade Stark Tower, and it is all Tasha's fault. As the pair of plush penguins infiltrate Steve's life, a second, more insidious evil creeps into his life when Bucky begins to act weirdly.---A series of soft vignettes inspired by Lauralot and the actual visit of two African penguins to the Freedom Tower last winter.





	1. A Matter of Penguins

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [To Be Unmade](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1924083) by [Lauralot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/pseuds/Lauralot). 



> Inspired by both Lauralot's awesome work and the incredible, real life African penguins that visited the Freedom Tower.

**A MATTER OF PENGUINS**

The Tower has been slowly but surely infiltrated and utterly invaded, and it is **all** Tasha’s fault. Steve cannot help but acknowledge this each and every time he walks through a room and spots a little intruder tucked somewhere. He sighs this to himself about her terrible influence whenever a pair of beady, black eyes stare down from a high shelf or a perch. Steve shakes his head every time he spots a plush, plump pair of ebony and white animals peering out the windows of the Tower.

Tasha had been the one to first find the video online and share it with Bucky, so it is only natural that the blame fall to her. A few weeks ago, it seems two penguins visited One World Trade. The funny, plucky little birds caught both her eye and her heart. Something about seeing the small, flightless birds peering out of the top of the skyscraper captured her imagination and humor enough that she decried it a moral imperative that Bucky see the video, too.

Bucky had been delighted to watch the short clips online of the birds exploring the observation deck and looking out the windows. Even Steve had gotten a good chuckle at the sight of penguins in such an unusual setting, but he never imagined Bucky to be so utterly enamored with them. In short time, the pair of plush penguins appeared from nowhere to join Bucky’s ever expanding toy collection with no one claiming responsibility (although, judging by their guilty smirks, Steve can be fairly certain both Natasha and Pepper were involved in some way).

A part of Steve is uncertain about the furry, fluffy birds that have joined the family. Bucky Bear had originally been a gift from Tony to Steve – a snide joke at the captain’s expense – but it had helped. Giving Bucky Bear to his namesake had been awkward as hell, but it felt equally right. Bucky had taken to the bear almost instantly. Captain Ameribear and the rest of the Bearvengers came at Christmas – a decidedly custom and inspired gift from Tony. The entire squad of bear heroes had been such a natural thing. Tasha’s stuffed animals have their own place in Bucky’s world but separate from the bears that occupy so much of his time and even his therapy. As a result, the penguins leave Steve rather puzzled.

When Steve asks Bucky about them, his response varies.

The _adult_ Bucky shrugs it off with some sort of comment about viral videos before trying to turn it around on Steve. Later, Steve always finds the plush penguins among his things, mocking him. Once, Bucky tucks them into Steve’s bed so the offending birds will not be found until Steve turns down for the night. Another time, Bucky places them in Steve’s sock drawer, those beady eyes looking up accusingly. The second worst is the medicine cabinet, sending Steve jumping like the time he found a rat in the medicine cabinet of that old, decrepit flat back in the 1940s.

The worst is the downright terrifying incident when Steve finds the penguins in the _freezer_. To Bucky’s defense, Steve overreacts, demanding to know why the penguins were in the freezer. The abruptness and harshness to his tone instantly sends Bucky’s mind reeling from adult to child; Bucky falls to his knees and blurts out a litany of apologies that Steve hardly hears through his own roaring shame. Later, when the adult resurfaces, Bucky explains as though to a child that penguins naturally need the cold.

The _soldier_ Bucky goes stony-eyed and cold, stalking off without a second word for hours on end. The silence and cold shoulder hurts and worries Steve, but the super soldier knows better than to follow too closely. He stays within earshot should Bucky need him, mindful that the soldier will not ask for anything.

It is the _child_ Bucky that gives what might be the most honest answer, chewing his lip and muttering, “Iunno.”

When Steve asks about the penguins during one of Bucky’s joint therapy sessions while Bucky draws, Dr. Worth frowns deeply at him. “Does their presence offend you?”

Steve blinks stupidly at the sharply critical question and stammers, “N-no.” When Bucky’s uncertain, dark gaze lifts from his drawings to meets his, Rogers feels the heat flush in his cheeks. “No, of course not.” Steve presses his lips together briefly and admits, “I just…. I want to understand. He never really had a thing for penguins before. I just… I worry about it. About him.”

Dr. Worth redirects the conversation to something else, effectively distracting Bucky once more. The session continues seamlessly. They discuss Bucky’s week and the progress he has made. All the while, Dr. Worth keeps looking to Steve as if to underscore some point that is lost to him. It unnerves the captain to be so scrutinized.

After the session, as Bucky dutifully puts away the crayons and paper that had been a part of therapy, Dr. Worth calls Steve aside to speak with him. “While I’d be the last to say this professionally, not everything _has_ to have a subtext, a deeper meaning, Mr. Rogers.”

“But the bears….”

It is Miriam who nods. “I understand. He does often use his bears to express or otherwise play act uncomfortable topics, but, if he has not engaged or assigned roles for the penguins outside of, well, being penguins and the novelty as such, I would not be concerned as of yet.” She looks to Bucky across the room. “He may simply be using these penguins to explore boundaries and to seek interests or allowances away from what you consider normal.”

Steve smirks ruefully and shakes his head. “Doctor, with all due respect, I think we’ve been well outside of normal for a long time now.”

“Normal is an individual interpretation,” Dr. Worth points out. “For Bucky, normal has been the product of what other people have impressed upon him, including by you, myself, and my wife. As long as this experimentation of his continues in a healthy path, I would allow him to move at his own pace.”

“Now, should Bucky begin to incorporate the penguins into his play-acting in any way, please, take note of their roles so we can discuss it,” Miriam adds.

They doctors bid him farewell, and Steve resolves to allow the penguins not to bother him…. at least until he finds them in the shower the next morning.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

A few weeks pass, and, in time, the novelty of the penguins wears off. In time, they settle into the ranks of general toys, those toys which do not occupy the same echelon of importance that the bears do. Bucky does not instantly relegate them to the playroom, but he does not play with them as eagerly as the bears. Every morning, they are tucked to the sides of the Bearvengers when Bucky makes his bed and takes Bucky Bear out to breakfast.

Steve breathes a heady sigh of relief when he realizes the penguins had merely been a child’s fickle novelty and nothing more than that. He worries about Bucky, sometimes too much. But Bucky has suffered so much that he need not hurt from Steve’s stupidity.

Yet, as time passes, Steve cannot help but check the penguins nestled in their spot among the bears at night…. just in case.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

It starts with such a small thing, almost trivial, really.

Every day is a ritual. Every day, Steve gently wakes Bucky – although he is usually dozing, having already awoken in the night, wet. Every day, Steve helps Bucky dress and discretely disposes of the soiled diaper while Bucky makes his bed and replaces each of the stuffed animals along the pillows. Every day, at breakfast, before preparing something for Bucky – something he can actually digest, for _Chrissakes_ – Steve gives Bucky the bottle of honey for Bucky Bear. Every day, while Bucky arranges his bear to prop against the honey to eat through osmosis, Steve sets up his many medications and makes breakfast for both of them.

However, on this morning, when Steve hands Bucky the bottle, his hand – the metal one – does not close properly on it as it has so many other mornings. The bottle slips right through those powerful fingers that could so easily shred a car. The bottle clatters to the floor and rolls to Steve’s feet.

He thinks nothing of it, picks up the plastic bear, and passes it to Bucky.

Later, Steve will think of this moment and wonder.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

Bucky is favoring his arm. He hides it admirably, but Steve sees it now. Bucky is using the metal arm less and less, relying upon his flesh arm more. A portion of Steve questions internally how long this has been going on as Bucky arranges each of the stuffed toys for bedtime in their proper spot. However, he knows precisely how long when he really thinks of it – since the honey bear.

That’s alright; Steve can conceal things, too.

Steve gracefully endures Bucky the _adult_ ’s light-hearted ribbing about tucking him in before reading Bucky the _child_ a story without even the slightest indication that anything is amiss. When the story is over, he places a chaste kiss on Bucky’s forehead the way any loving father would. Steve turns on the red, Asgardian star lamp before turning off the bedside light. Then, he slips silently from the room as Bucky snuggles into the blankets, hugging Bucky Bear close to him. Steve only pauses at the door to make sure his friend is alright just as he does every night before easing the door shut to a crack.

Steve listens carefully for some time as Bucky’s respirations slow and even out. He knows there is time now. Bucky always stays down for the first two hours after bedtime before the nightmares or a wet bed rouse him. His night meds will hold him down for that long at least.

Steve waits until he gets to his room to ask Jarvis about it.

Jarvis has nothing promising to offer.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

In the morning, Bucky innocently sits and watches a movie with Tasha while Steve discusses the matter with Tony and Bruce. Each listens carefully to his many concerns. Neither the physicist nor the inventor seem surprised by the realization, which somewhat startles and disheartens Steve.

When Steve asks about this, it is Bruce who answers with painful honesty. “Steve, that thing was never designed to be an arm. It was made to be a weapon. They never considered the man who had to carry that _thing_ for longer than a mission before going back on ice.”

The truth slaps Steve in the face in its simplicity. Of course the animals that did this to Bucky couldn’t concern themselves with the man who had to bear the arm. They were too consumed with their grand vision and mission for the world to worry about Bucky as anything more than an asset, a tool to be used and spent. Bucky’s long term comfort or capacity would never merit anything against his usefulness as the Winter Soldier.

“We’ve been expecting this for a while,” Bruce admits solemnly, putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Steve.”

Steve nods slowly, numbly. “So, what do we do now?”

Bruce sighs and removes his glasses, wiping the lenses with his shirt. It is a stalling tactic, one Steve has come to know well. Bruce cleaning his glasses always precedes something the physicist does not want to say or admit. None of them really want to say or do anything just yet.

They know very little about the long term maintenance on Bucky’s arms. The files liberated from Hydra and exposed by Natasha have all detailed its care and upkeep. However, they dealt with the matter no different than an owner’s manual on a car might discuss an oil change or tune-up. Hydra detailed operations and maintenance on the arm with a clinical dispassion, devoid of any concern or notation about the human beneath it. They know very little about the procedures and their effect on Bucky, outside of the limited audio recordings of his therapy sessions that were played during his trial. This is uncertain and potentially dangerous grounds for all of them.

Fortunately, Tony – ever the practical man, ever the engineer – answers where Bruce cannot. “Now, we figure out what exactly is going on and make a plan from there.”

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

It takes Bruce and Tony the better part of two weeks to determine their best course of action in analyzing Bucky’s arm. Any fool can see that the external casings are a metal of some kind – a dangerous combination for MRI technology and a wasteful one with X-rays. This presents a unique challenge to the two to obtain the sort of accurate and relevant imaging that might help determine a course of action. They spend days scouring the reports and documents leaking from Hydra, studying the exact design and function of each and every part of the arm from the smallest screw to the largest armored plate.

In time, they formulate a plan, and Bruce explains it to Steve while Pepper and Tasha distract Bucky one evening with a rather raucous game of Uno. Steve listens intently –or at least tries to listen. His attention is split between their technical descriptions and the laughter stemming from the game. Steve’s gut tightens during every pause; the arm had been obviously malfunctioning today, freezing awkwardly from time to time.

Eventually, Steve gives up, rubs his forehead, and says, “Bruce, stop. Tony, please?”

Bruce snaps his mouth shut, and Tony blurts out, “We’re going to need to strip off portions of the armor plating, patch into the arm’s internal controls, and run diagnostics from there.”

“Will it hurt?”

“It’s hard to say,” Tony admits. “Physical pain in humans is feedback to protect us from damaging our own fragile little bodies. We know the arm provides some sort of feedback for operation, but what exactly in terms of pain, we don’t know. Bruce and I have debated the matter at length.” He grimaces, scrunching his face up before muttering, “I still don’t see why Hydra would _want_ to provide that kind of feedback.”

“We’ve been over this, Tony. Pain may not have been intentional, but Hydra certainly would have wanted some sort of feedback to stimulate Bucky to _protect_ the investment.” Bruce frowns contemplatively before assuring Steve, “We can’t put him under, but we can use a local.”

“He won’t agree to that.”

Tony counters sharply, “He will if you ask him.”

It sickens Steve to his core, but he knows it is the truth.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

Steve sits with Bucky the entire time, holding his right, flesh hand while Bruce and Tony work and cradling Bucky Bear in his free hand. First, Bruce explains exactly what they are going to do to Bucky, mindful of the _child_ inside the super soldier and assassin. Then, Bruce administers the local anesthetic with a surprising tenderness, even blowing on the injection site after withdrawing the syringe. After that, Tony and Bruce work, prizing away at the cold, metal external plating. When one of the plates finally gives with a harsh hiss of metal on metal, even Steve looks to Bucky’s shoulder and the awful, grotesque mass of raw, unwashed meat and blackened metal joined together.

Bucky winces at the sight but insists, “’M fine. ‘M fine.”

Tony takes that as a sign to continue, prodding into the electronics with his tools and crying out, “We’re in!” It takes a few minutes for Tony to patch in with a tablet before announcing, “Got it.” The inventor works at his tablet for a moment before disconnecting everything and replacing the plating. “All done, here.”

“Kay,” Bucky murmurs drowsily.

Tony ruffles his long, dark hair. “Go on, kiddo. Go get some rest.”

As Steve helps Bucky up and returns his bear to him, Bruce leans close to whisper, “We’ll let you know as soon as we have anything.”

For the rest of the day, Bucky remains the _child_ , pliant and innocent. It frightens Steve to see him so altered, so trapped in the younger mindset. Yet, he will never leave Bucky, not ever again.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

The next morning finds Bucky and Bucky Bear seated, in front of a documentary about Galapagos penguins, thoroughly and completely engrossed. However, when Steve sits beside him, he notices that Bucky’s eyes are sharp and shrewd. His posture is all wrong.

When Bucky speaks, it is the _adult_. “Do you remember that time Mrs. Granger busted you for drawing in class?”

 Mrs. Granger had been their second grade teacher. At the time, Steve had gotten into the habit of drawing improbable animal doodles and passing them to Bucky in class. It passed the time during the boring lulls. The day she caught him, Steve had been drawing a penguin sitting in the sunshine, soaking up the sun.

“Yeah, I remember. She told me not to be silly, that penguins liked the cold.”

Bucky jerks his head in the direction of the television and penguins hopping about in the warm sunshine. “Bet she didn’t know about these guys.”

Steve snorts. “Guess not.”

They sit through several documentaries about penguins in a row. Galapagos. Magellanic. They even watch one about African penguins – the very same kind that visited the Freedom Tower. Bucky and he silently watch. It passes the time. That night, Steve tries not to be angry when he finds a plush penguin perched atop his toilet and another nestled under his covers, nor the next afternoon when he finds them in the pantry.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

“The arm’s failing.”

Tony tells him this one night after Bucky has gone to bed. A part of Steve hates Tony for stating this so bluntly, but another part of his is dreadfully grateful. Tony Stark is not a man known for his tact and timing, yet the inventor had waited to give Steve the awful news. He could have just blurted it out in front of Bucky, but Tony dotes on the _child_ Bucky just as much, if not more than the rest of them. Tony is protecting Bucky by not telling him outright.

“How can you tell?”

Tony produces a series of images and schematics on a table detailing the metal arm, with plenty of areas highlighted in red. “He’s been hiding it admirably. Concealing a weakness, my guess. But it’s been coming a long time.”

Steve peers closely at the mess of Hydra’s diagrams and Jarvis’s scans, uncertain of it all. “Tony…. in human terms, please?”

The inventor pauses in his rambling enough to wince in sympathy before pointing to the shoulder socket, “The neural pick-ups here and here aren’t registering. Looks like they’re burnt. The connecting servos aren’t responding. Wear to these struts suggest he’s been compensating by shifting his arm’s balance slightly, but that’s not going to last. There’s some indication that these pick-ups are relaying some sort of sensory response – a warning system or something.”

“Tony….”

Stark freezes and puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Damn thing’s falling apart, Steve.”

“Can’t get just one break ever.”

Tony sighs. “Look, without Hydra’s less than ethical doctors and their pathetic excuse for maintenance, he’s going to lose the arm’s functionality sooner or later, and, when he does, it’s just going to be an anchor dragging on his spine. Bruce thinks there may already be long term damage to his back and shoulder from supporting this weight already.” Tony’s face twists into a grimace. “I’m not very good at this stuff.”

Steve chuckles half-heartedly. “No. You’re not.”

“Do you want me to tell him?” Tony offers with surprising gentleness.

“No.”

Tony smirks. “You’re not very good at this stuff, either, you know that?”

“No, I’m not,” Steve breathes. “But someone has to.”

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

Steve spends an entire day working on how exactly to tell Bucky. In the end, after he tucks Bucky in and closes the door to his bedroom, Steve realizes just what a coward he has been. He frowns in shame at himself as he trudges to the kitchen and plops down in one of the chairs. When Steve finally brings himself to look up, he spies one of those damned penguins staring at him, and an idea hits him.


	2. Softer Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Entertaining unexpected visitors.

**SOFTER THINGS**

Everyone is talking. Everyone. Absolutely everyone.

The entire aquarium is all atwitter today. It has been common knowledge among the staff that the quaint little tourist stop has been rented out for the day by an exceedingly VIP party. The aquarium frequently hosts all sorts of birthday parties for children and group tours for schools or clubs, but it is exceedingly rare for the entire building to close to the public. The owners do not like to close without serious cause – not because of the money but because the place has become something of a community landmark following the hurricane. The staff has been buzzing for days about who has rented the place and how much it must have cost, but no one knows anything for certain.

There has been nothing but a steady stream of speculation circulating through the building – particularly when their special request about security and privacy arrived in a hefty legal packet along with nondisclosure agreements that every member of the staff on duty for the day had to sign.  Everyone has a theory about who it is. Some think it is a politician or dignitary. Others have suggested movie stars or pop icons, especially when one set of keen eyes spotted demands in their NDAs that as few staff as possible be on the floors while the VIPs tour the facility. Following that, there seems no shortage of speculation.

However, a few of the staff are much more pragmatic in the matter, Jess included. To Jess’s mind, her day will be the same regardless of any guests or visitors. She is a relatively newer member of the staff, having only been with the aquarium for a little under two years. Jess knows she will have nothing to do with the VIPs, so it makes no sense to get excited and flustered. Instead, like a few others, Jess focuses entirely on her work. The supervisors and managers will tend to the VIPs, give them the grand tour, and ensure they have everything they need to properly enjoy their visit.

The staff greet one another at the time clock as they punch in and pick up their daily schedule and walkie-talkies. A few nearly squeal in delight when they realize that their schedules put them in direct contact with the mysterious VIPs, while Jess practically sags in relief when she notes her schedule consistently steers her _away_ from public access areas and the VIPs. Her schedule heralds a blissfully predictable and dull day of enclosure cleanings, food preparation, and feedings.

While the others are all prepping the aquarium for the VIP guests, Jess escapes to the lab and breathes a silent thanks to her manager as she preps the morning water quality analysis. Jess does not do well with VIPs; she gets nervous and babbles stupidly in front of them. Her last VIP encounter included nearly dropping a penguin in the mayor’s lap followed by a string of practically nonsensical, gibberish apologies. The others might clamor for a chance to meet a celebrity, but Jess avoids it whenever possible, along with the utter humiliation that is sure to follow.

After chem lab duty, Jess spends the better portion of two hours scrubbing in the penguin exhibit while another member of the staff scrubs their toys behind the scenes. Penguins are messy, messy birds and rather prolific poopers. It is hard, filthy work.

Jess’s efforts are rewarded when Penelope gives her a few quick nips through the calf of her pants and when Kito – Penny’s mate – attempts to projectile poop on her. Penny and Kito are both a bit fussy and pushy when anyone comes within five feet of their nest. As Penny and Kito continue to posture, distracting Jess, one of the younger penguins – Imani – takes the opportunity to steal one of Jess’s scrub brushes and amble off to the pool with it. Jess sighs deeply and desperately prays that she isn’t making too much of a fool of herself in front of the VIPs when Imani forces her to trade a rubber ducky for her scrub brush.

Something flickers outside the window. Jess pauses and glances up; a pointless habit. The windows to the penguin exhibit are two-way mirrors. On her side, with the bright exhibit lighting, the windows are reflective. On the other side, with the dim mood lighting of the aquarium, the windows are clear, allowing visitors to spy on the penguins without notice. However, the humans do cast shadows, vague darkened shapes Jess can spy if she squints, and flashes penetrate with sharp, bright pulses. The VIP guests have arrived and have definitely seen Imani’s little comedy act. Jess shrugs it off and returns to her scrubbing.

Once the penguin exhibit is as clean as can be, Jess moves on to the reptiles and amphibians. For such a modestly sized facility, the aquarium boasts an impressive collection of smaller animals. Every day, each exhibit requires tending, clean water, misting in many cases, and feeding in others as the rotation demands. Jess starts upstairs to avoid the VIPs before moving back downstairs to slip behind the scenes and tend to the exhibits there.

She manages to finish two of the three poison dart frog exhibits before noticing _him._ He is a shadow off her left shoulder, bulky and large, crouched in a corner. Jess freezes, her blood turning cold. No one out of the staff should be there but her, and that particular area is only accessible through a locked door – to which only aquarium staff have a key. Worse yet is the thought that the stranger has sat in wait as Jess tended to two separate exhibits.

Her hand strays to her side without thought, to the walkie clipped to her pocket, but his voice stops her. “M’sorry.”

It is a small, timid voice that is utterly incongruous to the side of the body. The tone hits too high of notes to fit. It is the whimpered apology of a small child and not a grown man, riddled with primal fear. Jess has heard that tone perhaps a dozen times at the aquarium – all belonging to small children who had accidentally gotten separated from their parents or guardians. It melts her terror away, replacing the anxiety with something softer.

Jess turns slowly, carefully, and spies him in the corner. He is not crouched there. Instead, the man sits huddled in the narrow gap between the bug rack and the freshwater reservoir. His arms are wrapped about his knees, tucked up under his chin. It is the posture of a child, not anything Jess might expect from the bulky, muscular man she finds instead. He is shuddering, ducking his head and hiding behind long, black locks.

Jess forces herself to smile. “Uh….. hi.”

The stranger only curls up tighter in his corner, turning his head away. It unsettles Jess, to say the least, like accidentally stumbling into something too acutely intimate. She swallows that down and focuses instead on the man before her.

“Can I…. uh… help you?” the woman asks.

The head burrows impossibly deeper into folded arms as he murmurs, “M’not s’posed to talk to strangers.”

Jess bites her lip briefly before kneeling down on the cool, tile floor, just a few feet from the man. “Well, see, that _is_ a problem.” She smiles, the same bright, cheery smile Jess has used countless times when faced with shy children. “But we can fix that, easy-peesy. My name’s Jess. I work here at the aquarium.”

She spies just the briefest of flickers of dark eyes lifting to her gaze, impossibly deep and rimmed with red from tears. The body before her shifts uncomfortably, reflexively tensing and relaxing. Jess tenses in kind.

Then, however, those darks eyes catch hers again. “You’re the funny lady with the penguins.”

Inwardly, Jess cringes. “Yeah. That would be me. Thanks, Imani.” The stranger uncurls a little, his body shaking in tiny chuckles. “So, now that you know who I am, think you could tell me your name?”

“Bucky,” he sniffles.

Jess nods slowly. “Pleased to meet you, Bucky.” He gives a tiny nod, and Jess goes on, “Well, now that that’s settled, are you okay, Bucky?” The stranger makes a barely intelligible sound, and Jess’s hand drifts to her radio. “It’s okay. I’m just going to… call someone on my radio.”

As soon as Jess touches her radio, she realizes her mistake; in all the bustle of the morning, Jess never turned on her walkie-talkie after picking it up. When Jess flips the power, the radio bursts to life with all sorts of chatter and noise. Bucky shrinks back, deeper into his corner and away from the offending thing. When Jess focuses and listens more closely to the bursts of frantic voices, she grimaces to note that the rest of the staff has been rather fervently hunting for Bucky all while she has been mindlessly tending to the animals.

“Uh, this is Jess. I’ve got your missing VIP in the Reptile House.”

The walkie practically screeches in her hand as various replies sound one after the other. Most of her supervisors and coworkers sound utterly relieved. A few seem irritated that it took Jess so long to answer. After a moment or two of scattered plotting, it is decided that the VIP party will meet them there.

Bucky, however, has other ideas, blurting out, “No. Just Daddy.”

“Okaaaay,” Jess answers. “Uh, he’s asking for _just_ his dad.”

“Tell him I’m on my way,” a gruff, strong voice interjects on the radio, one Jess has never heard before.

“Thank you,” Bucky mumbles in absolute defeat, mostly to his knees.

Jess nods and waits with him from the other side of the cramped space. As the seconds slowly pass and Bucky continues to crumple inward on himself, Jess realizes that he is shaking in small, awful lurches. Although Jess cannot be certain, she thinks Bucky is crying soundlessly behind those dark locks of his. Her gut twists at the thought. After what feels like a painfully long time, there comes a small knock on the door. Both Bucky and Jess visibly jump after the silence that has stretched between them.

The voice from the radio calls through the door softly. “Buck, it’s me.”

Bucky’s head jerks up at the voice, his eyes wet and red rimmed from tears but wide with recognition. “Daddy.”

That feels enough validation for Jess, who cracks open the door. It only takes a few inches before a towering man slips through and slams the door shut behind him. Jess only narrowly escapes being barreled over into one of the snake enclosures by taking a quick step back, but this rather effectively corners her behind the newcomer. Jess backs deeper into her corner as she takes in the sheer bulk of the muscular man.

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” Bucky whimpers from the other side of the House. “I’m so sorry.”

For a terrifying moment, Jess instinctively holds her breath, waiting for the stranger to yell at Bucky, to raise a hand against him. However, none of that comes. Instead, the stranger crosses the space with swift, even strides before dropping to his knees before Bucky and holding out his arms. Bucky practically throws himself at the stranger, burrowing into his Daddy’s chest. The newcomer enfolds Bucky in his arms, shushing his tears gently and rubbing his back with downright paternal care. It melts the fear in Jess, replacing it with something akin to pity.

Despite his Daddy’s embrace, Bucky keeps repeating, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Buck. It’s okay,” his Daddy asserts gently as Bucky continues to murmur apologies into his broad chest. “No one’s mad at you, I promise.”

“I got scared. And I ruined everything,” Bucky cries.

The stranger shushes him and shakes his head. “No, no. You didn’t ruin anything, Buck.”

“But I ran,” Bucky sobs.

“I know,” the big man states flatly. “And that’s not good.” He draws in a deep breath and admits heavily, “But that’s my fault. I knew this going to be a bit much for you, but you sounded so excited.”

Bucky’s voice sounds like bubbles in a weird, sad way to Jess as he mutters, “Tasha wanted to see the penguins, too. And Clint wanted to see the owls. And Bruce wanted to see the fish. He said they’d be peaceful.”

“And I know you wanted them to have a good day, but that doesn’t mean we should have pushed you into too much in one day,” the big man announces. “Or let you push yourself into too much.” As Bucky seems to settle in his arms, he sighs. “I should have known better, and I’m sorry.” Then, the big man’s voice grows warm, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t still have a fun day. You and I can take a break, and, then, we can meet up with everyone in a little bit. How does that sound?”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?” the big man asks.

Bucky lowers his voice in obvious shame. “I’m wet.”

The gravity of the word does not escape Jess, but the stranger hugs Bucky tighter. “Oh, Buck. I’m so sorry. I didn’t…. I forgot to bring a change of clothes.” He leans in close, to place a chaste, fatherly kiss upon Bucky’s forehead judging by the motion. “It’s okay. We’ll get you cleaned up, and we’ll get out of here.”

“Everyone else is going to miss the animals,” Bucky sniffles, audibly struggling to keep himself composed.

“It’s okay. They’ll understand.”

Bucky whimpers and cries again, “I ruined everything.”

Jess’s heart melts, enough to break her from her stupor and blurt out, “We have a shower.”

Bucky and the stranger both start; they had clearly forgotten entirely about her presence. The stranger turns to look at her, and Jess’s jaw nearly drops out of her skull. The man crouched just on the other side of the House from her is none other than Steven “Captain America” Rogers. Captain America. For a brief second, her heart flutters in surprise, but, then, reality comes crashing down on her. Jess cringes inwardly; she just offered the _dive shower_ to Captain America.

And, that would make the other man none other than the infamous assassin known as James “Bucky” Barnes. At least, that is what Jess thinks. The newspapers and internet had been much more critical of Rogers and his friend during the trial, all touting his other name. The Winter Soldier. Every media outlet made sure to top their headlines with the dubious title in some sickly grotesque or aggressive font.

Jess feels acutely stupid now for offering the _dive shower_ to anyone like them.

“It’s small, and it’s dated, and it’s in the scuba room so it stinks of wet neoprene,” Jess hastily adds as though in apology, suddenly abruptly embarrassed by the dive shower. “But it’s got hot water, and the bath house is already closed for the winter, so it’s the only shower on the boardwalk. And it’s clean.”

Jess knows it is clean. As the newest member of the aquarium’s dive staff, Jess is the one who does the cleaning. Every week, after the last dive of the week, she disinfects and scrubs out the shower before hosing it down. However, it still sounds so very idiotic in her rambling, sending a burst of flushed color to her cheeks.

Rogers’s smile is warm and earnest. “I think both of us have seen worse.” He looks to Bucky and shakes his head. “Thank you, but we couldn’t. We don’t have any soap or anything to change into.”

Bucky gives another shake of his head, and Jess can feel her heart breaking for him. “We keep the shower stocked with bodywash, shampoo, and condition. Nothing fancy - just whatever’s on sale that doesn’t smell too strong. The guys get mad when they think they smell too girly. Plus, we’ve got a couple changes of clothes if you don’t mind looking like you work here.”

Both Bucky and Rogers eye Jess’s uniform and smirk at it. The clothes of a zookeeper are modest at best and hilariously bland at worst. Khaki pants or shorts are a staple at almost every zoo or aquarium. Many institutes have polo shirts or button-downs, but the aquarium has t-shirts for the general staff. They rotate shirts through the seasons, each featuring different designs including whales, shorebirds, colorful reef fish, and sharks. While their uniforms are some of the best, it is a far cry from what Jess could expect a superhero like Captain America or any of his hero friends might wear.

“We shouldn’t impose,” Rogers politely declines.

Jess shrugs. “Not my shower, so you’re not imposing on me.”

Rogers gives a single now and looks to Bucky. “It’s up to you, Buck. It’s your choice.”

Bucky smiles meekly. “Yeah.”

xxx

xxxx

xxx

It takes a few minutes of wrangling, but Jess manages to convince her coworkers to keep the VIPs occupied and well away from the Reptile House for a few minutes. Then, as Rogers gathers his friend up, Jess cracks open the door and peers outside. She does not know why, but it feels right to keep this small secret. Fortunately, the entire reef gallery outside the House’s door is mercifully empty.

“Coast is clear,” Jess whispers like in a spy movie.

The two big men follow her across the gallery to a second door. Jess swiftly jams her key in the lock and opens it for them, tugging the door shut behind the two men. The aquarium is just like any other zoo, aquarium, or even theme park. All of the noisy, not-pretty parts are tucked behind locked doors and hidden from the public’s eye, but the need for access leaves plenty of pathways for staff to get around the building without being seen. This particular pathway runs behind the larger exhibits holding coral, sharks, eels, and so much more before coming to a set of steps.

Bucky and Rogers follow without comment. Jess thanks her lucky stars for that. The aquarium is smaller, so space is at a premium. Any scrap of usable space is in use. While one side hosts the huge sand filters, the other side is lined with work benches and shelves piled high with supplies. Any open space on the work benches is currently occupied by several molds filled with colorful, curing, and decidedly rank smelling epoxy resin for new faux coral pieces. Neither man seems to care.

The two men wordlessly climb the steps behind her, up to what has to be Jess’s favorite place in the entire building; the top of the larger exhibits. Jess likes when her path crosses this direction, where she can take a peek over the exhibits at the animals. Today, she ignores that view in favor of swiftly bringing her charges back, beyond the tanks to where the dive room is sandwiched between the kitchen and the office.

Dave pokes his head out of the kitchen upon seeing Jess, likely to joke or tease with her, but he retreats to the kitchen after a curt shake a Jess’s head.

The dive room is equally as cramped as any other space in the building. One side of the room is lined with scuba tanks, wetsuits, and BCDs. The other side has a long, wide rack with shelves stuffed with milk crates – each crate stuffed with weights, BCD pockets, masks, gloves, booties, and other supplies.

“C’mon in,” Jess breathes as she steps to the back, towards the shower.

The back wall of the dive room has a shelf packed with clean towels. Jess grabs one. Then, second guessing Bucky’s size, grabs another. She drops those on the cheap, plastic lawn chair beside the shower stall. Then, Jess digs around in one of the storage totes labeled “SPARE CLOTHES.” Through the years, the staff has learned to keep several sets of spare uniforms in the dive room in the event of falling into an open tank or a dive emergency drill. They are mostly old sets of clothes retired to the dive room after replacement. Jess rifles through them until she finds a pair of pants, boxers, and a shirt that once belonged to one of their bigger male divers. She hopes it fits as she drops the clothes on the chair with the towels.

“Okay. Clothes and towels, check.” Jess glances into the shower. “Plenty of shampoo and bodywash, check.” She gestures to the side. “Just pull the curtain for privacy.”

Bucky steps into her place and tugs gently at the curtain. It is a thin, silky thing of blue fabric adorned with little penguins dodging chunks of ice. It is a child’s shower curtain, but the staff all appreciate whimsy and humor. Jess flushes even deeper, but Bucky only briefly considers the curtain before pulling it closed behind him. After a few seconds of audible fiddling, Bucky turns on the shower.

After that, Jess is left awkwardly standing around with Captain America for a brief moment of curious silence.

Then, he speaks. “Thank you…. For this.”

Jess opens her mouth to instinctively respond with something along the lines of “Don’t mention it” or “It’s the least I could do for Captain America.” However, nothing comes out. Instead, before Jess can say a word, she realizes he is struggling soundlessly to hold back unshed tears.

“For all of this…”

Jess glances to the penguin shower curtain, feeling uncertain dread rising in her gut. Bucky had called him ‘Daddy.’ He had spoken and acted as a child. She does not know the circumstances of their existence after the trial, but a part of Jess instinctively knows – just _knows_ – that Bucky should not hear whatever is about to happen. Swiftly, before Jess is even consciously aware of her actions, she is bodily shoving Rogers into the office and pulling the door shut behind her.

“Here,” she says softly, pushing him towards one of the chairs. “Sit down.” Jess reaches beyond him to the desk and the tissue, snatching up a wad to press into his huge hands. “Here.”

“I just wanted this to be a good day for him,” Rogers mutters as he tries to compose himself.

“Hey, it can still be a good day.”

Rogers shakes his head and cries, a heartbreaking sound coming from any man in Jess’s opinion. “It took so much work to make this happen, and I’ve ruined it so perfectly.”

Jess bites her lip. This all feels too acutely personal, too intimate, yet she cannot help but to stay. It feels wrong to leave Rogers with whatever this is all to himself, even if Jess might be incredibly out of her league in dealing with this. So, instead, Jess plants herself firmly there.

“Hey, listen to me,” Jess presses firmly. To her surprise, Rogers looks up to her, and she smiles gently. “Nothing is ruined. Your friend is going to get cleaned up and put on some spectacularly awful clothes. He’s going to look and smell like staff. The animals tend to come closer to people who look like us. Hell, the parrots, otters, and seals will probably be falling all over each other to figure out who he is and what his deal is.” When Rogers blinks stupidly, Jess goes on, “They’ll probably ignore the rest of you VIPs for the rest of the day.”

A faint hint of a smile tugs at the edges of Rogers’s lips, but they quiver again as the words bubble in his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You have no idea how many of us here have had to have a good cry up here every now and again.”

“I just…. I just wanted him to have a good day,” Steve whispers as he drops his gaze once more. “I thought Coney Island would be too much. Too many old ghosts.”

Jess feels her heart twisting for them once more. The boardwalk and aquarium are newer compared to the New York fixtures. The original construction only came about in the 1950s. The games and rides were added in the 1970s, and the aquarium only built in the 1980s, a slow sprawl of leisurely businesses popping up beyond the dunes. It is not unlike Coney Island with its own aquarium, rides, and games. However, this boardwalk did not even exist in Captain America’s day for either Rogers or Bucky to have any memories of it – good or bad.

Then, he whispers, “Like a dumb trip to the boardwalk was going to make possibly losing the arm any easier.” Jess draws in an audible gasp, and Rogers seems to come to his senses oddly with a chuff. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Someone knocks on the door, and Dave’s voice calls from the other side, “Uh, Jess….. I was just going to…” He pokes his head through the door and winces upon seeing Rogers’s tear streaked face. “I’ll just prep your penguin food.”

Jess frantically waves him off, and, then, she is alone with Captain American once more. And, he is crying to himself. She bites her lip, uncertain of what to do. Jess doesn’t know him, not at all. Even if she did, Jess hardly knows what to say to comfort him. She has never been any good at this in normal circumstances, and this is well beyond normal circumstances.

The shower cuts off in the dive room, and both Jess and Rogers jump. He looks up to her, his eyes still red and glossy. There is panic there, naked and fresh with the sorrow. Rogers gives a small shake his head, and Jess understands oddly. He is not ready, not yet, to face Bucky. He cannot yet compose himself enough to face anyone.

Jess grimaces, and she sighs, “Boss is going to kill me. Stay here and pull yourself together. And don’t touch anything or do anything that’ll get me fired.” She glances to the door. “When you’ve got yourself more together, tell Dave in the kitchen. He’ll bring you back downstairs.”

He nods gratefully, and Jess bolts from the office, closing the door behind her. She nearly barrels into Bucky in the process, who stands freshly showered and dressed in the dive room. He looks utterly ludicrous in the spare clothes, which are quite clearly at least one or two sizes too small and well worn, but he appears much more together and composed. There is something much more lucid in his eyes, but not entirely adult. Nor is it the cold, hard gaze of a soldier.

Jess draws a deep breath and asks, “Hey, you ever feed a penguin before?”

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

Her boss is most assuredly going to murder Jess. She is sure of it. Decades from now, someone will realize that one of the skeletons all around the pirate-themed golf course is real and is her. It is something of a running joke along the boardwalk that the skeletons that populate the course in a clear rip off of _Goonies_ are staff who have crossed their managers somehow.

However, to Jess’s defense, she will not be the only keeper to ever bring a stranger in to feed the penguins.

Bucky stands awkwardly in the back area behind the exhibit, shifting his weight as he stands in the thick rubber boots needed to enter the exhibit. He had been reluctant to leave the dive room without Rogers, but Jess had been insistent and had even shoved the larger bucket of food into his hand. After that, she had simply left him with no other choice but to follow down to the exhibit. She also left her boss with no choice by simply announcing on the radio that she was escorting the two VIPs to the penguin area at their request.

“Okay, so here’s the deal; they’re probably going to rush you like a bunch of hungry little velociraptors. Be ready,” Jess cautions. “But, don’t worry. They don’t bite hard.” She pauses, chewing on the inside of her cheek before adding, “Well, Penny will, but that’s just if you don’t feed her fast enough.” Bucky blinks in shock, and Jess laughs. “I’m kidding. She just pokes you, just enough to let you know she’s there and she’s hungry.”

He looks down to his feet, suddenly so very small for his height and bulk. “Are you sure this is okay?”

“Yeah. You’ll be fine.”

Jess climbs the steps to the door to enter the exhibit. It’s a stall door; she only opens the top so that none of her little rascals can slip out the bottom. As soon as Jess does, a veritable flock of penguins in their tidy black and white feathers come rushing towards her, their eager faces all looking to her.

“Hey, munchkins!” Jess greets, stepping over the bottom half of the door and into the exhibit. “How are my little monsters?”

Jess hangs her smaller pale of food on the door latch and steps away; many of the penguins follow her. However, she realizes almost instantly that Bucky is not following her. Instead, when Jess looks back to him, the famed Winter Soldier stands uncertainly at the door, looking in at the colony with worry in his face. The penguins – such clever creatures – swiftly realize that Jess does not have the food in her hands. They turn and spot Bucky with the larger bucket; then, they quickly return to him.

“I don’t know about this.”

Jess smiles and threads her way between the penguins. “Here.” She takes the bucket from him and moves back. “Just come on in slowly and don’t step on any of them.”

As Jess backs away further, the penguins follow her and the bucket. It leaves enough space for Bucky to step over the door and into the exhibit with her. She gestures for him to join her, to come to her side, and he does. Then, Jess digs into the bucket and grabs one of the slippery, cool fish. She holds it out to show Bucky, and the penguins dance under her fingers, all quite eager for lunch.

“This is capelin. It’s most of what they get for their meals.” She bends over and finds one of her favorite, easiest eaters – Linus. “Just offer it to them head first, and they’ll do the rest if they want it.”

Sure enough, Linus swiftly snaps up the capelin, snatching it out of her hand and working it down his throat. Linus will eat just about everything offered. As soon as the capelin vanishes down his gullet, he looks up for more.

“See, easy!” She puts a few capelin in Bucky’s hands. “Give it a shot.”

Bucky leans over and offers Linus a fish. Just as he had for Jess, the male grabs the capelin from Bucky and gulps it down. He laughs – an earnest, warm sound.

Jess points to one of the penguins perched along the faux boulders. “That’s Diva. She’s pretty good at catching it if you give her some head’s up.” Jess holds out a fish in the dainty penguin’s direction and calls, “Diva, Diva ready?” She gives two, small warm up waves of her arm before tossing the fish and stating, “Diva.”

Diva easily catches the capelin. Jess beams in delight and looks to Bucky. He is grinning from ear to ear as he emulates Jess’s practiced movements and calls. Unfortunately, Bucky tosses too soon, and Diva misses completely. The capelin hits her cheek lightly and falls to the boulder at her webbed feet. Bucky’s face falls – utterly stricken by the failing – but Diva simply reaches down and plucks the capelin off the boulder to scarf it down.

“Try again. Little more warning for her. Wait for her to bob her head in time with your movements,” Jess instructs.

Bucky tries again, and, this time, Diva elegantly catches the fish midair.

“Alright, well, now that you’ve seen how it’s done, we’ve got ten pounds of fish and twenty-five hungry birds to feed.”

Together, Bucky and Jess feed the penguins. It is getting close to molting season, so all the birds are quick to feed. Some are rather demanding. Jess points out each of the birds by name as they feed, telling Bucky something interesting about each. She makes sure to show him any of the birds that were hatched there and to point out their parents. Bucky takes to it well, and, by the end of the capelin, Jess is certain he feels much better.

Afterwards, as the penguins nearly stand on tip-toes in front of him, Bucky asks, “What about the small bucket?”

Jess smirks and takes a step back. “I’m going to let you handle that. It’s dessert – silversides. Just try to toss a few in the pool.”

Bucky takes the bucket from where it hangs on the latch, and the penguins absolutely swarm him. He blanches at their excitement and delicately plucks a single, small silverside from the bucket. A few of the penguins stumble over one another in their desperation to snatch up the fish. Bucky catches Diva’s attention and tosses her one. The others rush towards her now, all but Penny – who pokes at the back of his leg impatiently. He catches on quickly and moves much faster, not even bothering to bend over to feed them. Instead, he either tosses the silversides to individual penguins or drops them into waiting beaks. By the time Bucky reaches the bottom of the little pale, he is laughing in earnest at the penguins and their antics.

“Thank you,” he tells her breathlessly. “That was amazing.”

Jess takes the silver pale from him. “No worries. I’ll always let someone else do my job for me if they want.” When a flash flickers beyond the glass, Jess nods. “Well, best be getting you out of those nasty boots and back to your friends.”

They swiftly change out of their boots and exit the penguin area. The VIPs are waiting just a few feet from the door, and Jess spots Rogers almost instantly, drawing him over with a wave of her hand. Then, she bids Bucky and Rogers a brief, discreet farewell and excuses herself to wash her buckets up at the kitchen. After all, there are other animals to be feed and tended to, as well as cleaning.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

A week after the VIP visit, the first letter arrives at the aquarium addressed simply to “Jess.”

When her supervisor hands it over to her, confusion floods Jess. She has never received any mail at the aquarium addressed directly to her. That’s not entirely true. She does get _Alert Diver_ from DAN at the aquarium, but that comes generically addressed to “Dive Officer” and not her by name. Even more curious is the fact that is it addressed only to her by the name of “Jess” and not “Jessica” as any professional correspondences would be.

When Jess opens the letter, her jaw drops; the terse letter is from none other than Tony Stark.

_Cap told me what you did. In thanks to you and your formal little friends, I’ve made a small donation in your name to SANCCOB. – Stark_

A series of documents in the envelope confirm that the Stark Foundation has funded the efforts of the South African Foundation for the Conservation of Coastal Birds for the next five years easily in her name. The aquarium is partners with SANCCOB, often fundraising for the organization that dedicates its self to rescue and rehabilitate injured, oiled, or sick shorebirds – most notably African penguins.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

The next letter to arrive for Jess at the aquarium comes just days after Stark’s. This one is penned in perfect, precise script with the return address from _Mr._   _S. Rogers._ It comes in a bulky envelope along with what appears to be the clothes Bucky borrowed – albeit laundered judging by the fresh scent.

_Dear Ms. Matthews,_

_I never had the chance to properly thank you for all that you did for us. I know it may not seem like much; a shower and a change of clothes. However, without that, we would not have been able to stay and enjoy the day. You did not have to do that, nor did you have to take Bucky to feed the penguins with you. You have no idea how much that meant to him. Words cannot express my gratitude._

_Enclosed, please find the uniform you leant to us, along with our contact information. Should you, or the animals, ever require anything, please do not hesitate to use this information._

_Again, I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your simple understanding._

_Sincerely,_

_Mr. Steven Rogers_

_Captain America_

Jess reads the letter again and again, struggling to comprehend what exactly she did to garner the personal attention of both Tony Stark and Steven Rogers. She offered them a shower and a quiet place to settle down – it was the very least she could do. It was the smallest of kindnesses, and it cost her nothing but a few minutes of her day.

She tucks the contact information into her things and forgets about it, until an order comes in for an adoption kit for each and every one of the penguins – all going to the same address in New York and all addressed to “James Barnes.” Jess tries to hide her smile as she helps pack up each adoption kit by taking twenty-five of the plush penguins for the kits and putting on color bands on their wings to match each individual bird. She knows who is getting their very own colony of plush penguins, but that does not mean Jess feels right sharing that information.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

The third letter comes perhaps a week after the twenty-five adoption kits ship to New York.

_Dear Jess-_

_I know Steve and Tony sent you letters to thank you, but I’m certain Tony’s was rude as hell. I’d also be willing to bet that Steve’s was so formal that it didn’t really say anything. I wanted to thank you myself, because I know neither of them did it right, and I wanted to apologize for my behavior._

_I don’t know how much anyone knows about me. Jarvis won’t let me look anything myself up online. I have moments when I regress. The docs say it’s a combination of my conditioning and coping mechanisms. I did it when one of the parrots started squawking. It sounded like screaming. I ran and hid when I heard it. That’s when you found me._

_No one outside the Tower treats me like I’m anything but broken when I regress. You didn’t. You let me pull myself together and taught me to feed the penguins. And you let Steve pull himself together. You have no idea how much that means. Steve doesn’t really take care of himself. I don’t know what anyone else would have done if they found me._

_I don’t know if I’ll be able to go down there again. The courts don’t like it when I leave New York. I wish I could see the penguins again._

_Thank you again –_

_Bucky_

Jess blinks stupidly at the letter for some time. The Bucky she had met spoke softly, with all the uncertainty of a child. The Bucky that has written this letter sounds so much more adult, more mature and strong willed. It surprises her in a way, but not as much when she considers the weight of the word “regress.” Jess had seen it in Bucky’s eyes that day, before the shower and whatever clarity it had wrought.

Jess stuffs the letter in her purse, intending to forget it. However, it nags at her for the rest of the day, chewing on the back of consciousness. Later that night, she pens a simple letter back and uses the aquarium address for the return instead of her own.

_Bucky,_

_I’m just going to come out and tell you, I feel awkward writing this. So, if it sounds awkward, well, it is._

_First off, I wanted to thank you guys for everything you’ve done, but I also want you to know that you didn’t have to do any of it. I didn’t do anything special, and you didn’t owe me anything. I just did what I thought I’d want someone to do for me if the tables were turned._

_Second, you do know you don’t have to come all the way down here to see penguins, right? Coney Island has a little colony of the same species, but you can always watch our guys on the webcam. It doesn’t have a great picture, but it’s not too bad. I hope you’ll get a chance to see them again in person, but, until then, this’ll have to do._

_\- Jess_

_PS How did you even get into the Reptile House without a key?_

Before she can change her mind, Jess seals the envelope, slaps a stamp on it, and runs it down to the mailbox at the corner. Afterwards, Jess stews over whether or not she should have sent such a thing without the aquarium’s approval. However, it is too late. There is no getting the letter back from the mailbox without committing a felony.

Two weeks after that letter is sent, a plain letter arrives at the aquarium for her. Inside, there is a scrap of paper with only a single line of writing, just a few words : _Air vent in ceiling._

Curious, Jess sets up a little ladder in the House and probes the ceiling tiles gently. Sure enough, one of the tiles is loose enough to open. Jess peers cautiously through the crack and finds that there is an air vent that opens up above the faux roof of the House. However, when she examines the House from the outside, Jess finds that there is no easy way to climb to the top, no footholds anywhere.

She tries to push the events of that day from her mind, but, every time her day brings her by the Reptile House, Jess finds herself marveling at the strength and agility Bucky must bear to have scaled the House and slip inside without anyone knowing.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

Fall creeps steadily onward through the madness of Halloween and into the early winter. Although aquarium attendance slows to a crawl, November and early December are fairly busy and chaotic for the staff as they slowly prepare for Christmas festivities. Every year, the aquarium staff deck out the entire building with lights and all sorts of aquatic themed decorations for the holidays.  This year, even Jess gets sucked into the swing of things, getting lost in a sea of crafting, painting, and hanging lights off of anything that stands still long enough. In time, she even forgets about Bucky as the madness of preparing for the official lighting ceremony takes over her life.

Then, just a few days before Christmas, on a rather overcast and dreary morning, Jess is pulled away from the decorating to head out on an encounter with Alexis, the lead penguin keeper. Jess likes encounters and outreaches, more so when dispatched with Alexis. The two are about the same age, and Alexis has a funny, quirky sense of humor.

As Alexis packs their supplies, Jess asks, “Who are we bringing?”

“Diva,” Alexis tells hers. “Special request.”

Jess thinks nothing of it. Encounters and outreaches always include a live animal visitor. Sometimes, adopters and schools have a particular bird in mind. It happens, and the staff tries to accommodate. Not all penguins want to cooperate with requests for their presence, and the staff never forces them. Diva, however, is rather good natured about pretty much anything and everything. Jess gets Diva ready and in a crate with some toys while Alexis packs a lunch for Diva. Together, they load up the outreach vehicle and head out with Alexis behind the wheel.

Jess reads the directions carefully to Alexis, but she does not recognize the address. It is merely some uncertain address in the middle of New York City. She does not know the City well enough to know the place. Jess does not exactly care where the encounter takes them, as long as they arrive safely and on time. All the while, Diva sits silently in the backseat in her crate, ever the professional penguin.

When Alexis pulls into the address, it is to a towering skyscraper that pierces the heavens and vanishes amid a grey sea. Jess has but a few seconds to take in the size and scope of the structure before they turn into a parking garage and are stopped no less than three times. Each time, the van is scrutinized by a different dog in a green vest while one man sticks a mirror on a stick beneath the thing and another studies their licenses. Jess bristles and tenses at all this; she has never been _anywhere_ in her life that required such rigid security. Yet, Alexis seems unafraid, unsurprised by all this, so Jess merely follows her lead. Diva quietly preens in the back, completely unconcerned by any of this.

Eventually, after each security team seems satisfied that they are not going to do something absolutely horrible. A rather stern looking man in uniform toting a rifle directs Alexis to park to the side where a prim woman with dark, brown hair in a sharp suit awaits them.

As soon as Alexis slides out of the van, the woman greets her formally, “Ms. Fuchs, Ms. Matthews. Welcome.” The woman extends a pale, cordial hand to shake and introduces herself, “Maria Hill.”

The woman says the name as though it is one, indivisible character. It reminds Jess of all the people she learned about in high school history, with names only ever recited in full. As Maria Hill takes Jess’s hand formally, Jess wonders if anyone has ever dared to call her “Maria” or give her the horror of a nickname. Jess dares not inquire.

“First thing’s first,” Maria Hill announces, producing two, sleek tablets of some kind. “Let’s get the formalities out of the way, ladies.” When Jess takes hers, she notes a formal contract of some sorts which Maria Hill swiftly explains. “My clients are extremely private individuals. Non-disclosure agreements. Anything and _everything_ that you see today is strictly confidential. Speak one word of any of this to the press without our prior written consent, and we’ll be seeing you in court where I can promise you will lose.”

Alexis nods quickly as she signs and gestures for Jess to scribble her name. “We can be discreet.” Jess furrows her brow at all the secrecy, but Alexis merely nudges her. “Right?”

“Yeah.”

Maria Hill beams earnestly as she reclaims the tablets. “Perfect. Now, if you’d follow me.”

Alexis carries Diva’s crate while Jess totes the rest of their kit, following Maria Hill to a plain service elevator of sorts. It is unlike any of the boring, dull service elevators Jess has ever seen in her life, let alone on any of her adventures with the aquarium. Instead, this elevator features security panels and a thumb-print scanner of some kind. Jess begins to bristle at all these measures, but she mindfully says nothing.

The elevator rockets up so quickly that it makes Jess’s ears pops; Maria Hill grimaces in sympathy. “You get used to it.”

The elevator lets them off on an upper floor, towering over the city below. Maria Hill escorts them from the elevator to what appears to be the lavishly appointed living room of a rather open-concept penthouse, decked out lavishly.  There, they set up, spreading a sturdy tarp over the floor, building a small puppy-gate fence over it, and placing Diva in the middle, along with a few of her favorite toys.

Maria Hill glances to a small, handheld device and smiles. “The boys will be here shortly.” Then, as an afterthought, Maria Hill blurts out, “I should warn you, this is all a surprise.”

“We understand,” Alexis assures her; Jess merely nods along.

Maria Hill’s device chimes. “Showtime.”

Maria Hill steps aside as the elevator doors at the far side of the room slide open, but, before Jess can see who their hosts are, Alexis grabs her by the elbow to hiss in her ear, “I’m sorry. They wouldn’t let me breathe a word.”

Jess blinks stupidly, but she has no time to question, to ask, not when a gasp comes from the door. She glances up and lets out her own gasp in return. It is them – the Avengers - like something ripped from the newspaper or tabloids. Tony Stark. Steve Rogers. Natasha Romanoff. Clint Barton. Bruce Banner. And, in the middle of them, looking rather stunned and staring with wide eyes, is Bucky Barnes. He looks to Steve in shock, who merely grins in return. 

“What is this?” Bucky breathes, his voice just as timid and fragile as it had been in those first few moments so very long ago.

Steve shrugs sheepishly. “Early Christmas?”

Bucky throws an arm around Steve, pulling him into a tight embrace. Some words are exchanged in tight whispers. Jess does not hear, nor does she try. She knows better. She also tries not to notice the vacant left sleeve of his flannel shirt pinned up neatly at his shoulder. None of it is her place to notice or know.

“Well?” Romanoff butts in, elbowing Bucky sharply in the side. “Aren’cha gonna go say hi?”

Bucky sniffles and nods. “Yeah.”

Romanoff takes Bucky by the arm and practically skips over. Jess flushes oddly. Natasha Romanoff is a master spy, or so the tabloids all say. A mistress of seduction and grace. Her behavior is strangely childish compared to the tales Jess has read of her exploits. It is almost child-like enough to match Bucky that day at the aquarium.

Bucky chews his lip briefly and looks back to Steve, but the superhero just gives a small nod of his head. “Go on, Bucky.”

There is an uncanny moment in the man during which Jess thinks she might spy the shift in Bucky from an uncertain adult to a child. It is unsettling at best, but not unprecedented. Nor is it entirely unexpected after the incident at the aquarium. His expression softens, especially around his eyes as he draws near to the playpen and the penguin contained therein.

When Bucky and Romanoff kneel down beside her, the spy – Black Widow – eyes Jess and grins devilishly. “Hey, Bucky, aren’cha gonna introduce me to your friend?”

Bucky blushes – actually _blushes_ – hot color raising up in his cheeks to burn a crisp scarlet there. He ducks his head low, abruptly shy and averting his gaze from Jess. Romanoff and the others giggle and snicker at his response, barring Rogers. The big man turns away and covers his mouth with his hand sheepishly, clearly stifling his own chuckles out of politeness.

“TashathisisJess, JessthisisTasha,” Bucky blurts out in a rapid fire of barely intelligible syllables, his eyes never leaving the ground.

“Pleased ta meetcha,” Tasha declares, extending a hand for a quick shake before returning her rapt attention to the penguin.

 The rest of the afternoon is spent like pretty much any other encounter. Alexis talks a bit about African penguins like Diva before launching into tales of Diva specifically. Jess chimes in with a few of her own when feels right, but it is hard when there are so many eyes so clearly fixed upon her. The Avengers remain well mannered, but Jess frequently catches them staring. Tasha is a bundle of energy and spirit, a sharp contrast to Bucky’s shy reservation, yet the others seem completely accustomed to her. It is Jess they keep looking to.

Towards the end, it is time to feed Diva. Alexis hands Jess the cooler and suggests that she and Bucky feed. Jess agrees and helps Bucky. Bucky seems to recall Jess’s teachings almost exactly. He offers a few capelin expertly before tossing some to Diva. The penguin gladly snaps up each and every fish Bucky and Jess give her.

Tasha snaps a few photos of Bucky and Jess with the penguin. “Oh, I am sooooo sharing these with Darcy.”

The others chat briefly about someone and their social media obsession before Bruce inquires about conservation issues. Alexis gracefully handles that. She would know better anyway; Alexis has been to Capetown. She can at least speak from personal experience, while Jess can only recite facts.

When Bucky speaks, it is so softly and so timidly that Jess almost thinks she is imagines it. “Hi, Jess.”

“Hey, Bucky,” she whispers back. 

“Thank you.” He drops a zoo smelt in Diva’s beak.

Jess shrugs. “It’s nothing.” Then, awkwardly, she adds, “How have you been?”

Bucky frowns, abruptly adult once more. “Getting better.” He waves at his empty shirt sleeve. “They took my arm.” Bucky gives Diva another smelt, smirking as she snaps it up, but the expression does not  reach his tone when he explains, “It was failing.” He chuffs strangely. “I think this is all some sort of weird, fucked up sorry-for-taking-your-arm-here’s-a-penguin-so-feel-better present.”

“That’s a little messed up,” Jess admits. Then, with a bit of mischievous sarcasm, Jess asks, “Did it work?”

“Hrm?”

“Well, do you feel any better?” Jess questions.

“Sort of.” He sighs heavily in chagrin. “Used to be better at this.”

“At what?”

Bucky shakes his head. “Talking to pretty girls.”

Jess blinks in surprise, but, before she can say anything else, Tasha is bounding over to them once more. Apparently, whoever this ‘Darcy’ person is has declared the photo of Bucky feeding Diva “too adorbs to even” and is demanding more pictures. Alexis and Jess happily oblige, letting Diva out of the pen to wander about within reason. Now that Diva knows Bucky will feed her, she eagerly follows him, sticking close to his side and alternating between preening his pants and begging for treats. He shifts back to the child Bucky, delighting in Diva’s attention and giggling as the penguin refuses to leave him alone.

Jess laughs along with everyone else, but it does not always reach deeply. Instead, discomfort rolls in her heart and belly, especially whenever she catches the sight of one of the Avengers staring at her. Alexis’s apology burns in her brain.

Eventually, Alexis declares that it is about time for them to be heading home if they are to beat the traffic. Stark quips about flying them home OVER the traffic, which Alexis politely declines. She takes over packing up Diva and the kit, pointedly leaving Jess and Bucky to trail behind.

“So, big plans for Christmas?” Jess asks awkwardly.

Bucky mutters something to the effect of yes as he walks her to the elevator before stuffing a scrap of paper in her hand and retreating. Alexis and Jess ride in silence the entire way down, Alexis grinning stupidly the entire time and snickering at her coworker. Jess tries not to slap her; she knows to maintain some level of decorum. She can wait until after they pack up, hit the road, and get back to the aquarium to get back at Alexis for all of this.

Jess waits until well after they get back to the aquarium to even glance at the note, finding a phone number there.

_“Call me sometime.”_

 

 

 

 


	3. To the Bone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an eventful trip to the aquarium, Steve finally admits to Bucky that the arm needs to go. Things do not go smoothly from there.

**TO THE BONE**

There can be no question; Steve Rogers is absolutely and without a shadow of a doubt the biggest coward to ever exist. Even after his breakdown and entirely pitiful display during their almost disastrous outing to the aquarium, he still waits another two full weeks to tell Bucky. Even then, Steve relies heavily on Bruce and Tony to break the worst of the news, like the utterly pathetic creature he really is.

Bucky has no less than three reactions.

Bucky the _child_ reacts with the requisite fright and sorrow that Steve had been expecting. It is only natural. After all, what they are saying is barbaric at best and entirely deserving of such reaction. They are talking about taking his arm – for the _second_ time in his life, Steve reminds himself cautiously. Bucky the _child_ sobs and shudders in horror. Steve tries to hug him, but Bucky in this headspace and so mired in this emotional mess will not have it, shoving him away. Instead, Natasha holds him as he cries into her; thank _Christ_ for Natasha.

When the tears dry, there is anger. Bucky the _adult_ rages at the thought. Steve bears the brunt of his fury with grace and civility. He takes whatever Bucky the _adult_ can fling at him. The insults, the profanity and vulgarity beyond what Steve remembers Bucky knowing, even the punches when it eventually comes to that. Bucky the _adult_ has plenty to be angry about, and Steve will not silence him.

It is Bucky the _soldier_ that takes it best. When everything else is said than done, it is the _soldier_ who sits quietly and listens to reason. He sits in silence while Bruce and Tony recount all the reasons they need to remove the arm. He maintains a stony calm when they explain the limited options at their disposal. It is the _soldier_ in the end who understands and agrees.

That does not make it any less painful for Steve.

Later that night, when the night meds hold Bucky down, and while Steve is tidying up and finds the rumpled aquarium uniform, it almost brings him to tears. That day had been so simple, so easy despite Steve’s own gross failings. The woman from the aquarium had made it so terribly easy for him, and he never even took the chance to properly thank her. Jess. And he has done nothing in return.

Steve dutifully washes and mails the uniform back with a polite note, but it feels pointless, especially when faced with Bucky’s soft grief in the morning.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

As the days pass and the surgery approaches, Bucky’s favorite bedtime story changes from the usual assortment of fairytale affairs to something darker. Each night, he asks again and again, and, each night, Steve dutifully recounts the surgical plan as outlined by Bruce, Tony, and Helen. First, they will go down to the surgical suite. There, Helen’s team will disinfect the arm as best as possible while administering sedation. Bucky will sleep through everything, but Steve will stay with him. Bruce and Tony will then work to disconnect as much of the mechanical arm as possible from the joint. From there, Helen and her team will assess any remaining portion of the physical arm to determine if there is salvageable tissue. After that, the next course of action will depend on what things look like beneath the arm. Steve tells him this again and again, reassuring Bucky that he will not feel a thing during the surgery, that his post-surgical medications will prevent any pain afterwards, and that they won’t do anything without his consent. Steve promises that, afterwards, they will take it easy and watch movies while Bucky recovers.

It seems a strange thing to discuss. Bucky is uncomfortable with the thought of anyone doing anything to him while he is unconscious, but he seems to understand. There is too much of a risk that he will snap or lash out with people working on him while conscious. Bucky is simply too dangerous. Bucky accepts this oddly, despite how it bothers him.

Steve’s assurances, however, do nothing to assuage his fears or the deepening sorrow behind his dark eyes. He grows listless and sullen. The day before the surgery, Steve watches as he prods at his food, eating nothing. It hurts Steve, but he has no idea how to compare his own pain to Bucky’s.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

The day of the surgery is nothing short of horrific.

It begins with a panic attack. Steve had explained repeatedly for days leading up to the surgery that Bucky would have to fast that morning, that he could have nothing to eat due to the risk of complications – aspiration, Helen had called it. Steve had not wanted to get more graphic than that, but Helen had been quite descriptive in her own warnings. However, in the morning, with Bucky half-asleep still and drifting between ages, the explanations do not resonate. Instead, Steve’s soft assurances are met by deaf ears and blind terror.

When Bucky retreats to the safety of his closet, Steve grits his teeth and forces himself to walk away for a few moments to cool off. He is not mad at Bucky, and the captain _needs_ Bucky to know this. He is mad at himself, instead. Steve has been an utter fool. Of course Bucky would react poorly to this; Hydra had clearly used food as a weapon and restraint against him. While he has never explained whether it is physical or mental, Bucky still cannot stomach most foods and requires nutritional shakes for most of his meals, but they are working on it.

Bruce has taught Steve several calming techniques. Breathing methods. Meditation. Counting backwards from five (sometimes ten or twenty). Steve goes through them all in turn. He needs to be strong, calm, and properly hopeful about this. However, just to be safe, Steve makes sure to pick up Bucky Bear from his place on the bed before going inside.

Then, when the hour comes, Steve walks down with Bucky to the medical wing. Bucky reacts poorly there initially, freezing with terror. However, fortunately, the _soldier_ takes over within moments. Steve counts his lucky stars for that. The _soldier_ can at least operate, following basic requests. Steve’s heart aches at the thought of using the programming like this, but it makes things a bit easier, especially when he and Bucky have to change into something appropriate for a surgical theater.

They make it into the theater before the _soldier_ melts away and leaves the _child_ in his place, wide-eyed and clearly terrified by the all the strangers in their scrubs and masks, as well as all the gleaming, silver instruments. He sobs and begs Steve in a broken, cracked voice that damned near breaks the super soldier. It takes several hugs and soft promises to settle him into a more pliant state. Steve holds him tight before helping him climb onto the gurney. He places a chaste kiss upon Bucky’s forehead before easing him down.

“It’s going to be okay, Buck,” Steve tells him, the words tasting like ash. “I’m going to be right here.”

He means it. Helen had not been keen on Steve staying with Bucky, arguing that the surgical field would already be fairly crowded, but Steve had given no ground. Steve will stay at Bucky’s side for as long as it takes, for as long as Bucky wants him. The captain knows that once the drugs have Bucky down, his presence won’t be necessary, but Steve will stay all the same.

Steve smiles as genuinely as he can muster and holds up Bucky Bear “Plus, your back-up is going to be right here with you, too.”

Helen beams down warmly but puts her hands on her hips in mock chastising. “Wait. Bucky Bear can’t be here for this-“ before Steve or Bucky can balk, the physician pulls a teeny tiny face mask, cap, and lab coat from her scrub pocket “-not without proper dress.” Helen looks to Bucky. “Do you think Bucky Bear would let me help him dress for surgery?”

Bucky bites his lip nervously but nods. “Yeah.”

Helen gracefully strolls to Steve’s side. With tender and almost practiced motions, Helen puts the lab coat on the bear. She takes the time to button the coat and gently smooth the coat. Only once it is fully on does Steve spy the embroidered stethoscope across the chest and the colorful lollipop in the coat’s faux pocket. Then, the woman pulls the mask over Bucky Bear’s face and places the cap on his head.

“There,” Helen announces almost reverently. “Bucky Bear is ready.” She looks down upon Bucky. “Now, it’s time for you to get ready.” Helen pulls on her gloves and places a hand on his flesh hand. “I’m going to put your IV here, if you’re alright with that.” Bucky clenches his teeth and nods, so Helen proceeds with swabbing his hand. “Small pinch, now.” Bucky clamps his eyes shut and looks away, but Helen is so smooth and skilled that she is finished before he even knows it. “There.”

Bucky blinks stupidly and gapes down at the iv in his hand as Helen tapes down the connector. “I didn’t even feel it.”

“Of course you didn’t,” the physician purrs with pride. “That’s because I am very good at my job.” She nods to Steve and Bucky Bear. “And, I have very good assistants.” Helen pauses briefly. “I know you’ve had a rough time with doctors in the past, but I’m not like them. My team isn’t either. We’re going to take very good care of you Bucky.”

“Promise?” the _child_ Bucky’s voice squeaks.

“I pinky promise,” Helen assures him. “Besides,” she leans in close to him before darting a mischievous glance at Bucky Bear. “I hear it’s in my best interest to stay on the good side of bears.”

Bucky grins briefly. It is enough to lighten Steve’s heart a little, if only for a moment while the sedatives pull Bucky under, the smirk softly fading from his face as his eyes slide closed. It is time.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

The surgery is a veritable ballet between Dr. Cho, her team, Bruce, and Tony. They move easily in and out of one another’s place as necessary. Bruce and Tony maintain a quiet professionalism that Steve knows does not come lightly from Stark. They perform the mechanical work while Helen and her team do all the medical work. It takes hours. The arm is more complicated than originally assumed, and, as such, it takes much longer to remove than planned.

Steve tries not to watch, but it is hard. He wants to keep his eyes on Bucky’s face to watch for any signs of waking, of breaking through the meds, but that means Steve keeps snatching glimpses of the surgical site and the grotesque mess that is Bucky’s shoulder. He cannot handle the sight of Bucky’s blood, flesh, and metal so mingled and fused together. Fortunately, all Steve has to do is hold Bucky’s hand.

When the arm is off, Bruce cradles the awful this in his hands and looks expectantly to Steve. “What do you think we should do with it?”

Steve grimaces and turns away in disgust. “Destroy it. Crush it. Melt it down. I don’t care. Just…. Get it out of here.”

“Speaking my language,” Tony says with a grin.

After that, Steve sits with Bucky until he wakes. Dr. Cho gives him a brief examination, but Bucky is sluggish and dopey from the drugs. Steve is not certain if the physician is getting anything beneficial from examining Bucky, asking him questions, shining lights in his eyes, but Helen seems to approve. She lets Steve take him back to his room to sleep it off, but not before giving Steve a lecture on aftercare and a pharmacy’s worth of medications.

After Steve tucks Bucky in to sleep off the medications, he opens the bag from Dr. Cho and finds a pinwheel decorated to look just like the lollipop stitched onto Bucky Bear’s lab coat. It puts a smile on his face, not simply due to the whimsy of it, but also because of course Helen would do that. She knows Bucky cannot have a real lollipop like that; he cannot always stomach such a large amount of complex sugars without getting physically ill. But a pinwheel? A pinwheel could never make Bucky sick. Steve sets Bucky Bear on the night stand, still clad in his new medical wear, and props the pinwheel up on the bear’s shoulder. Bucky will see it when he wakes up.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

The day after the surgery is mercifully quiet and peaceful. The surgery took its toll on Bucky, and he needs his rest. Dr. Cho’s generous supply of drugs and Steve’s tending help to smother anything but warm, hazy comfort.

Bucky spends his day in bed mostly, with Bucky Bear cradled close to his chest, still dressed as a surgeon. He is quiet, but not sullen as most silent days are spent. This is a different quiet, heralded by half-lidded eyes and syrupy tones that Steve is unaccustomed to hearing. He murmurs requests for movies, and Steve gladly obliges, sliding into bed to hold Bucky close through the day.

The day turns to night without anything of note.

xxx

xxxxx

xxx

The day after the surgery had been the easiest of the days to come, Steve often realizes. In the days and weeks to pass after, Bucky withdraws. He grows increasingly quiet and listless. He is not quite the _child_ , the _man_ , or the _soldier,_ and something about that uniquely disturbs Steve. He is something different, something in between and somewhat forlorn. He is sullen more, buckers more, and, although Bucky will never admit it, Steve knows he cries more when he thinks himself alone. Steve spends the days watching the darkness creep into Bucky’s eyes, trying not to stare at the ugly mass of scars when he helps Bucky clean the dressings and dress. As the gloom eats away at Bucky, it gnaws away at Steve as well.

Steve nearly reaches his breaking point at dinner one night. Bucky sits with them at the table, but he refuses to hold anyone’s hand to say Grace. He bows his head, the polite, reverent, and respectful boy still that Steve recalls from their childhood in the face of prayer. Bucky lips at his food but mostly prods even safest of things about his place absently with his fork. Bucky’s eating habits have been rather poor as of late, but Steve cannot tell if it is due to the pervasive melancholy or the difficulty in handling food with one hand. When Steve tries to offer him a nutritional shake, Bucky shoves him off with a bitter, muttered curse and retreats to his bedroom.

Steve jumps from the table to follow him, but Natasha is quicker. “You stay. I’ve got this.”

The spy bounds after Bucky, leaving Steve to make the requisite apologizes, but Tony shushes him. “Nothing to be sorry for.”

Steve nods slowly, as though understanding, but the dam within him is cracking. The last few weeks leading up to and following the surgery have been so hard, harder than any man should need face. He folds his arms across his chest, but it is too late. The uncomfortable, uncertain haze of emotions that has hung over him like a shroud the past month claw into him with an animal ferocity. He bites his lip, a meager measure against the tears and sorrow that bubbles to the surface.

“Hey, hey, don’t go doing that, now,” Tony murmurs almost too tenderly as he rises. “C’mon. Let me show you something.”

Steve pulls himself back enough from the brink to let Tony escort him from the table and lead him to a disused office. Tony never fancies offices much, and most of the offices assigned to him remain vacant and disused at best. He prefers the labs, and the chaos spread over every workbench and flat surface in any of the labs or shops serves as testament to such.

To Steve’s very great surprise, this office is not untouched. Instead, it is filled with boxes. They are all uniform sizes, which makes for an eerie sight. Steve absently counts them and finds twenty-five boxes occupy the space in total.

He looks to Tony in confusion, but the inventor merely smirks. “Open one.”

Steve approaches one of the boxes almost hesitantly. He does not trust the expression on Tony’s face, the mischief and delight at his friend’s uncertainty. The boxes could contain anything. Yet, they have all been neatly sliced open. Gingerly, with all the care of handling explosive ordinance, Steve opens the box, half expecting something horrible to come springing out.

Nothing springs out. Instead, inside the box, Steve finds a plush penguin tucked amid a small collection of things. He furrows his brow and takes the plush out. The fur is soft and comforting. On the bird’s wing, a series of colored beads has been attached. Steve sets the penguin back in the box and continues to paw through the other contents. There is a pin of steely silver, shaped like a little penguin. There are pencils and erasers – all penguin themed. He finds a hard, cardboard backed, cheap canvas covered in splotches of bright colors and signed neatly in the corner ‘Diva’ in black Sharpie. There is a folder with photos of a penguin wearing the same beads as the plush bird.

A paper catches Steve’s eye, and he reads it aloud to himself, “’Thank you for adopting Diva.’ Adopting?” Steve glances to Tony. “You adopted a penguin.”

“I didn’t technically adopt a penguin,” Tony purrs dramatically.

Steve looks down to the name written on the paper. “Bucky? Bucky adopted a penguin?”

Tony chuckles. “I adopted them – all of them, in fact - in Bucky’s name.”

Steve gestures to the other boxes. “So these are all…?”

“Penguins? Yeah.” Tony rubs the back of his neck. “That whole colony Bucky got to feed when we went to the aquarium.”

“Why?”

Tony shrugs and rubs the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “I guess I kind of thought it’d make a good Christmas present. He seemed to like them so much. And the proceeds go to a penguin rescue in South Africa, so, it’s not like it’s a waste or anything.”

Steve smiles slightly to himself and picks up the plush version of Diva, holding it close to his chest. “Why are you showing me this, now?”

Tony purses his lips together. “I don’t know. Guess I figured he could use a little pick me up.”

A part of Steve cracks a little down the middle. Tony Stark is a good man, perhaps a better man that he. Tony always seems on top of things, ahead of things, and he always has the resources at his disposal to handle things in a way Steve cannot. While Steve scrambles to make plans, to figure things out, Tony is always already there.

“Want to help me set them up for him?” Tony asks before Steve can dwell too much on such uncomfortable, shameful thoughts.

Steve smiles bittersweetly. “Sure.”

Together, they cart all the boxes up to what has become Natasha’s and Bucky’s playroom. It had been a bedroom in another life, with towering windows and a lavishly open floorplan. An overpriced painting of a black swirl had hung on the wall in that lifetime, but it has since been replaced by a myriad of garish posters and prints from movies that Bucky has shown interest in through his recovery. _Spirited Away, Inside Out, Frozen,_ and so many more. It has not escaped Steve’s notice that more and more aquatic movie posters have appeared since the aquarium visit, like _Finding Nemo, Finding Dory,_ and _Ponyo._ The austere original furniture has been replaced with soft things in bright colors.

A large coffee table that Steve is certain cost of a fortune sits in front of an oversized, overstuffed couch littered with cozy blankets. Steve always winces when he sees the coffee table. It is made from a dark, elegant wood, so large and primly designed that it probably cost more than most houses. Now, however, the deep, rich finish is marred by paint stains and crayon scribbles. Steve knows Tony doesn’t mind, but it always seems strange to see.

Together, Tony and Steve carefully set each penguin on the table. They use the empty boxes to prop up their photos and adoption certificates behind them. They place the little canvases in front of each penguin, so it appears as though each plush is holding up its own little masterpiece. It makes for quite the display.

Once that is done, Tony claps Steve on the shoulder. “Well. Let’s go get the kids.”

Together, they go to Bucky’s room, but only Steve enters, sliding into the door. Bucky and Natasha sit on the bed, swaddled up in blankets. They lean close in on one another, as Natasha whispers sweet things meant only for Bucky’s ears. It such a tender vignette that Steve almost hates to spoil it. So, he waits until Natasha’s eyes meet his and her voice drops to nothing.

“Bucky?”

Those dark eyes rise up to Steve, bloodshot and red rimmed, but Bucky says nothing. Steve does not expect him to say anything after a crying jag; it isn’t like Bucky to be vocal after a spell like that. Tony had once said it was a “hard boot,” but Steve still has no idea what exactly that means.

“Bucky,” he presses, cautiously now. “Bucky, Tony has arranged a surprise for you.” When Bucky blanches, Steve smirks. “I know, I know. Tony’s little ‘surprises’ for _me_ aren’t always the greatest, but you know it’s always the best, always ‘spare no expense’ for you,”

Bucky chuckles beneath his long, dark locks at Steve’s impression of Tony. Steve’s impressions are laughably bad at best. He hasn’t the voice or the talent for it, but Steve always does it to see the grin on Bucky’s face at his expense. It is enough to break the tension, and Bucky extends his hand for Steve to take and lead him by.

Steve holds Bucky’s hand warmly but gently, ferrying him to the playroom with Natasha skipping along in their wake. She says nothing, just tiptoes behind them. Steve does not mind at all, not even when Tony slips in behind her as well.

When they get to the door of the playroom, Steve asks, “Are you ready?”

Bucky shrugs and nods. Steve eases the door to the playroom open, slowly and dramatically, with the flourish of a magician, revealing the twenty-five plush penguins in a row. Bucky gasps audibly at the sight of them. He glances to Steve, who gives a small nod of approval. At that, Bucky rushes to the coffee table, crashing to his knees before the row of black and white birds. He reaches out to touch one but withdraws his probing fingers upon spying the beads fixed to the wing.

“What is this?” he breathes, his voice thin and fragile. “This… is Diva?”

  
“It’s your own private penguin colony,” Tony chimes in from the door. “The penguins you met, well, you adopted them. All of them.” Bucky gingerly lifts the footprint painting from in front of the plush, and the inventor goes on. “A Diva original, I’m told.”

“Thank you,” Bucky croaks out. He pulls the Diva plush close to himself and cries into her fur, “Thank you….”

When Bucky composes himself enough once more, Steve, Natasha, and Tony help him pick a nice place to hang all the pictures and paintings in the playroom. It takes the better part of an hour, with Bucky murmuring approval or disapproval from behind the plush Diva’s head. By the end of it, Bucky is yawning repeatedly, so the three help him cart all of his new penguins to bed. Steve tenderly tucks him in as Bucky introduces Bucky Bear to the near ludicrous volume of new plush animals. It takes so long that Steve does not even need to read him a bedtime story; the introductions lull Bucky to sleep alone.

Outside the bedroom, Tony and Natasha await; Steve hugs them both. “Thank you. He needed this. He’ll never say it, but he did.”

“No worries,” Tony answers easily. “But, now, what am I supposed to do about a Christmas present?”

Natasha perks up with a wicked grin. “I think I know the perfect thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Before you ask, yes, I worked with penguins for a while. They are...... just adorably awful creatures. They are like well-dressed toddlers; sweet and cuddly one minute before throwing a tantrum the next. They are also just as varied in personalities as people are. Some are very affectionate towards their keepers, following them around and trying to preen them, while others are..... aloof (yeah, let's go with that). 
> 
> The two little African penguins who visited the Freedom Tower are ambassadors of their species and part of a Species Survival Plan (SSP) as operated through the AZA. African penguins are recognized as an endangered species due to multiple threats in the wild. SSPs are critical backup plans for species under threat, involving captive breeding of healthy, genetically diverse populations with plans for species bolstering and reintroduction (as conditions in the wild permit, naturally). 
> 
> There is a foundation in South Africa dedicated to the preservation and protection of wild African penguin populations if you're interested in helping these awesome birds called SANCCOB


End file.
